


On Acquiring Office Furniture

by story_monger



Series: The Particles that Make Us [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, Friendship, Gen, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3691422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/story_monger/pseuds/story_monger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maybe it’s robbers,” Vae suggests idly. Mulder gives her a look and strides for the office door. He tugs it open and looks down the hall to the supply room.<br/>“Yeah, looks like,” he says to Vae. “They’re trying to spirit away the tables.”<br/>__</p><p>Scully scavenges from the supply room and Mulder provides unhelpful quips. Sounds like any other Wednesday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Acquiring Office Furniture

**Author's Note:**

> Who has two thumbs and a weakness for domestic basement office fluff?
> 
> Could take place anytime in the series, but I'm putting it in season 1. No spoilers.

Mulder walks into work twenty minutes late on a Wednesday morning. He sets two coffees on the desk, flicks on his computer, checks for voicemails, and jerks his head up when a loud _thump_ rattles the floor.

“Hello?” Mulder calls, peering into the dimmer corners of the office that the fluorescent lights can’t reach. The heavy rain that day means that the skylights are dull and the shadows are deeper than usual. Which, great, put the paranoid freak who believes in ghosts and aliens in the dimmest, creepiest office in the building. That sounds about right.

Another thump, this time accompanied by muffled voices.

“Maybe it’s robbers,” Vae suggests idly from the floor. Mulder gives her a look and strides for the office door. He tugs it open and looks down the hall to the supply room.

“Yeah, looks like,” he says to Vae. “They’re trying to spirit away the tables.”

“Oh, good, you finally made it,” Scully calls back. She stands in front of the supply room with the first fourth of a table sticking out of the door. She wipes her hands on her pants and rakes her fingers through disheveled hair, all while giving the table a pinched expression. “The table’s too tall and too wide to slide through the doorway,” she says. “I’ll need you to help me angle it through.”

“Hang on, now we’re being asked to aid and abet,” Mulder says without moving from his own doorway. “I’m telling you, the gall of the criminal class these days.”

“Mulder,” Scully starts.

“Vae will help,” Mulder tells her. At his feet, Vae sneezes abruptly.

“Never mind,” Scully grunts, leaning down to grip the table. She braces herself like she’s ready to yank it through the doorway without regard to possible property damages.

“You already tried that,” says Odran’s flat voice from somewhere inside the supply room.

“Come on,” Vae tells Mulder, and starts loping down the hall. Mulder follows with the corner of his mouth tugging up. He’d have waited to see how far Scully was willing to push the performance, but Vae is more sensible than that.

“Are you going to sell it on the black market?” he asks. “Do I get a cut?”

“Climb in there,” Scully orders, jerking her head. “I think if we, um, rotate it about 45 degrees it’ll get through.”

“Sure boss,” Mulder says, drawing even with the table and looking into the room. Odran is perched on a battered file cabinet looked grimmer than usual and with his feathers in disarray. Mulder has a private theory that the state of Odran’s feathers has direct correlation with Scully’s mood. When he’d proposed this to Vae, she’d reminded him that few things in their field were as murky as daemon psychology. He’d then told her to just pay attention the next time Scully was pissed, really Vae, the evidence was right there.

Now, he nudges Vae with his foot. She flicks an ear in return.

“Do I wanna know how long you’ve been struggling with this?” Mulder asks, all but crawling over the table’s legs and stumbling into the supply room.

“You don’t,” Scully says, crouching down and sliding her fingers under the table. “Ready?”

It takes a few false starts and bangs against the doorframe, but eventually Mulder and Scully maneuver the table out of the supply room, down the hall, and into the X-Files office. Odran and Vae trail after, talking in too low of voices for Mulder to pick out what they’re saying.

“I need a chair too,” Scully says, and Mulder shifts his attention back to her.

“Going to ransack the whole place?” he asks, leaning against the edge of his desk.

“Just enough to give me a place to work,” Scully says. She looks pointedly at the side tables covered in files and print outs. “I was tired of battling with Weekly World News for workspace.”

“I can clean that up,” Mulder starts. Scully gives him a look and his words falter. “Yeah,” he admits. “Okay.” He stands from the desk. “C’mon, they keep the good chairs in the very back.”

“Is that where you got that piece?” Scully follows him to the door and nods at his large leather chair. “I always thought it looked like it came from above your pay grade.”

“Used to be the director’s chair,” Mulder says conspiratorially.

“Really? How do you know?”

Mulder winks at her, and leads the way to the supply room.

“Mulder?” Scully hurries to catch up. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? Mulder!”


End file.
